


drowning in an inkwell

by Tiara_of_Sapphires



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 14:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16834321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiara_of_Sapphires/pseuds/Tiara_of_Sapphires
Summary: Their futures are written in ink and stardust.





	drowning in an inkwell

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was originally posted on Tumblr but since tumblr's being a dumb shit im backing it up over here.  
> Enjoy!

When Rey’s hand started twitching, she knew that something was wrong.

Wrong, in the sense that this wasn’t some nervous tic that pulled at her muscles on occasion, but something like a pattern.

She didn’t need to think too hard to figure out where it came from.

Kylo. Ben.

Their bond was a static, closed-off thing now. After Crait, there was that final connection before everything went quiet. Unbroken, though. She couldn’t destroy this bond even if she wanted to.

And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. She had gotten so close to bringing Ben back only to have the Dark slam down over him over again.

Her hand still twitched, fingers pinching together and wrist flickering in a way that had to be for some purpose.

Muscle-memory, transmitted from him to her, though the bond had been cold and unused for months.

She squinted at her hand, unsure what to do about this.

It wasn’t any threat to her, not yet.

But…curiosity pulled at her.

Was this some sort of message?

* * *

He had very little time for being by himself.

As Supreme Leader, he had much to do. Organize the troops—because he didn’t trust Hux. Track down the Resistance—because he didn’t trust Hux.

So, when he found a moment of time that he could retreat to his quarters, he found himself drawn to his desk.

The calligraphy set from when he trained with Skywalker had been crushed and destroyed when Luke tried to kill him and when he destroyed the fledgling Order.

It took years for him to replace it, higher-quality metal and wood and ink, the small luxury he was allowed.

Now that Snoke was dead—because of him because of that girl Rey who wormed her way into his heart and mind and left him out in the cold—he was allowed more things, in theory.

He was satisfied with the set, that was all he needed.

He pulled out a sheet of paper and started to practice.

It was a simple exercise: the Basic alphabet, over and over. Practice makes perfect, though he had been the envy of Skywalker’s students and had near-perfect penmanship.

It was habit, his muscles moving as if on their own accord.

His mind went blessedly blank for once, instead of wandering to thoughts that would likely anger him but that was likely to change. His attention snapped to and he glanced down at the paper.

Three letters in Basic, one word. Over and over and over.

R. E. Y.

Rey. Rey. Rey.

He couldn’t even be that surprised in himself. He thought about the scavenger Jedi more often than not.

But…something was wrong.

He felt…

“Ben.”

The room felt lighter in a painfully familiar way as a smaller, thinner hand with unkempt fingernails held his pen for the briefest moment, the word that was a name dead to all but two echoed and bounced around the inside of his head.

Kylo jerked as if struck, the pen crushing in his hand and leaving black ink dribbling over his fingers and onto the paper.

He lurched to his feet, chasing her as she lurched back.

She had been curious, he knew that. Something had come over the bond, unbeknownst to him. And the girl, his Rey, chased after it.

A girl who was curious about handwriting and enchanted by the precise Basic on the paper, now ruined.

Ink drip-dripped onto the floor, as he stared at the faintest image of the woman who abandoned him and haunted him.

“You have beautiful handwriting,” she said.

Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion, an observation. But he could sense the undertone of admiration.

It had been months, they were enemies now.

Why wasn’t he yelling at her to leave? Why wasn’t she yelling at him to leave?

The answer to those questions didn’t really matter. She blinked away from him a moment later and he was alone and cold again.

Kylo looked at the ink dripping from his hand, still wet.

He let some of it collect on the tip of his index finger and brought it down the part of his desk that wasn’t covered in ink and paper.

A swipe of the finger, another, another. Wetting his finger again as the ink began to dry.

Finally, it was done.

Three letters, one word. Crude, a child’s finger-painting on steel.

_Rey._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated!  
> Cheers!  
> ~Tiara of Sapphires


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